Stranded
by Snotwing
Summary: This is a strange little friendship fic - Sarah McGee dumps her cheating boyfriend in the middle of a road trip. She should have waited until they made it to the hotel, but hindsight is 20/20. Who will bail her out when she can't reach Tim? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This plot bunny was given to me by the completely awesome Choas Babe. I've got big plans for a Tony/Sarah friendship series, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Thanks for reading and please review.

** * ** * ** * **

It was nice to have an older brother.

She could always go to her big brother for help – especially when she couldn't go to her parents.

Of course, there was the expected teasing and occasional bossing from older brother to younger sister.

But, all things considered, Timothy McGee was a good brother.

He had always been there when she needed help – whether it was Band-aids for scabbed knees, a Tooth-fairy stand-in or the more serious stuff like rescuing her term paper from a blacked-out computer, helping her move into her first apartment… or picking her up from the side of a street in the middle of nowhere because that's where her boyfriend – now ex – had left her.

Choking back another heart wrenching sob, she dialed Tim's number _again_.

He didn't pick up – just like the last four times, he cell went straight to voice-mail.

She hiccoughed, and, giving up on her brother, began to scroll through her contacts.

Surely there was someone she knew who would be willing to drive at least four hours to pick her up.

Four hours from D.C. – where Tim was – but a much longer drive from her home in upstate New York.

Of course, she wouldn't need a ride if Rex hadn't been everything Tim had said he was. Her boyfriend had spontaneously announced that he was taking her on a romantic getaway – she nearly broke down in tears again as she thought about what that bastard Rex did to her.

Honestly, who was stupid enough to bring along pictures of the _other_ girlfriend on a vacation with the first one?

Rex.

Tears blurred her vision so she could no longer read the list of contacts she was sorting through. A wave of barely repressed anger washed through her – at Rex, at her own helplessness, and at Tim for not answering his gosh-darn phone.

She heard the trilling ring of an outbound call and glanced down at her phone, realizing with some surprise that she was clenching the device so hard her knuckles were white. She sighed, and prepared to end the accidental call. She knew that the polite thing to do was to apologize for having the wrong number, but she wasn't in the mood.

"Hello?"

The voice was small and tinny because she held the phone so far away from her ear, but she didn't want to hang up. A wave of hope surged through her – there _was_ someone she knew alive and answering their phone.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Without thinking, she brought the phone up to her ear and spoke.

"Y-yes. It's Sarah…" She chocked off a sob, trying to regain control. Dang it, why couldn't she just be calm and rational – it wasn't like this was a _real_ crisis. She wasn't really facing any real danger – not like the kind of danger Tim faced every day on the job.

But she was on the side of the road in the middle of Virginia countryside and it was nearing dinner time. At least her phone got good reception.

Focusing on the positive side helped a little.

"Sarah?" Her name was said without any recognition. "Sarah, are you still there?"

Focusing on the friendly voice on the other side of the phone helped a little more.

"Yes, yes, I'm here. I need help." Belatedly, she realized that she was essential asking someone she didn't recognize to help someone he didn't know. "This is Sarah McGee. I- I need a lift."

"McGee – as in Tim McGee's kid sister?"

Thank God – she'd called someone who knew Tim. Maybe she'd called someone from D.C. Suddenly, she felt very stupid for asking this person for help. She didn't know who he was – and, from the sound of it, he didn't know her well either.

"Yeah, that's right. I- I need help, and he isn't answering his phone. If you could just –"

"Where are you?"

Sarah was a little taken aback by the strident concern in the man's voice - still she couldn't place the smooth, rather attractive tones.

Surely she'd recognize that voice?

"Virginia, but if you could –"

"Are you all right? You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm on an old highway, I think. I don't have a car. I just need-"

"Any trees nearby?"

"Yes." Sarah gave up trying to ask Whatshisface if he could reach her brother - or call a cab. Now that was a brilliant idea.

A car rental company would pick her up – except that Rex had tossed her purse out the window when she'd hit him with it. Dang it.

She was really lucky she still had her phone.

"Alright, good. Look, I'll be there in a few hours to pick you up. I want you to go sit in the trees – out of plain sight of the road. Okay?"

Okay? That was more than okay. But she couldn't let a stranger drive who knows how long to come pick her up.

"You don't have to pick me up, really. If you'll just-"

"Wonderful. Stay away from the road, don't try to hitchhike, and I'll be there soon."

Shoot, but that man was infuriating.

"Wait –"

And he'd hung up on her.

Sighing, she checked the calls log on her phone.

Tony DiNozzo.

She'd called Tony DiNozzo.

Great.

She'd actually met him once – he hadn't seemed like that bad of a guy, really. Even so, Tim had warned her about him. Ever since her brother started working for NCIS, she'd heard him complain about 'Tony'.

Tim had called him all sorts of names – juvenile, self-centered, and mean jerk all came to mind. Those were probably her brother's most frequent complaints. However, Tony also had a reputation for being a womanizer. Tim would say that Tony had only offered to pick her up because he wanted to sleep with her.

Well, at least she knew who to expect.

She sighed and clumped her way over to the nearby woods to wait for her champion, as directed.

** * ** * ** * **

As soon as he hung up on Sarah – maybe that was a little rude, but he'd apologize later – Tony called Abby.

As he'd suspected, the Goth was still at the lab – even this late on a Friday - and had been happy to give him a trace on Sarah's cell phone. Abby had applauded him for going to get 'Timmy's' sister while he was doing some mysterious assignment for Director Vance. If she hadn't been needed at the lab, she would have come along.

As it was, she stuck to just giving Tony pointers on what to say and how to act – and not act – around Tim's sister. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to date her.

Tony had been in the car and on the road before he'd managed to end the call with Abby.

He was speeding, which, while not something he never did, was rather unusual for him. But he was making good time. He wouldn't beat Gibbs' record, but damn if he didn't come close.

Two hours in it started raining. He winced and pushed down on the accelerator.

When he'd called Abby, the one thing he hadn't told her was how distraught Sarah had sounded. He hadn't asked her how she'd ended up on the side of the road without a car, but something told him that there was an _emotional_ explanation.

He'd just be the cab driver, he decided. When they got back to D.C. Tony would let Tim sort out whatever emotional trouble his sister was having.

Scowling at the thought of McGee, he hit speed dial 5 again.

Voicemail.

Feeling rebellious, he didn't leave a message this time either.

McGeek always seemed to be on some personal favor disguised as a 'special assignment' or another for Toothpick.

He knew that it bothered Gibbs and Abby, too, but they'd decided not to say anything just yet.

Tony grumbled. Tim should be here – some instinct told him that Sarah needed her big brother.

Well, Tony was just gonna hafta do for now.

He sighed again, almost wishing he'd brought Gibbs.

'Cause Tony knew that he _sucked_ at comforting distraught, weeping women.

** * ** * ** * **

Sarah threw another rock at one of the tall trees surrounding her.

The more she thought about her situation – about the person on his way to 'rescue' her – the more dire it seemed.

She had just decided to call Tony and send him back to D.C. when it started raining.

And by raining, she really meant down pouring. Despite the thick canopy above her, enough water trickled down through the leaves to have her wet and shivering inside a few minutes.

She had just decided _not_ to call DiNozzo when her phone rang.

It was DiNozzo. Wonderful.

"Hello?"

"Sarah? It just started raining here – are you okay?"

Well, that was actually rather considerate – even if it was a stupid question.

Of _course_ she wasn't okay.

"Well, yes, I'm just as right as _rain_." She supposed she should really be grateful for the domineering ass on his way to get her, but she just couldn't hold back the sarcasm.

After all, she'd spent the last two hours remembering every bad thing Tim had said about Tony DiNozzo. At this point, she still wasn't sure whether she wanted to get into the same car with him, rain or not. Not wanting to spend any more time in the rain than she absolutely had to, she set half her brain to remembering if Tim had ever said anything _good_ about Tony.

"All right. I'm about an hour out – maybe less if I push it."

Oh, lord, he was speeding to impress her. She could already tell that he was a show-off.

"Fine, I'll see you then."

She hung up, knowing she was taking her foul mood out on someone who was essentially an innocent bystander – who was making what _should_ have been a four hour drive just to pick her up. _And_ he'd somehow managed to shave off an hour of time she would spend waiting in the rain.

Shoving her phone in her back pocket (in hopes to keep it dry) she leaned against the nearest tree and went back to thinking bad things about Tony.

At least she wasn't thinking about Rex.

** * **

Less than an hour later, her cell phone rang again.

She answered it instantly, hoping that DiNozzo wasn't just calling to check in again.

"Sarah, I'm here. Or, er, hereabouts." He paused and she could hear some muted beeping in the back ground. "I shouldn't be more than fifty yards from your position. I need you to walk out to the road to see if you can see me."

Moving quickly, she reached the side of the road in barely a minute. Not more than fifty feet from her was a bright red mustang idling on the side of the road. A man that could only be Tony leaned against the side of it, cell phone in hand. He smiled when he caught sight of her.

"Hey," he called, hanging up his phone. "You alright there?"

She nodded sharply, jogging towards the car and potential dry warmth.

Before she could say 'Skirt Chaser' she was ensconced in a fluffy blanket and secured in the front seat of the Ford.

"Buckled in?" Tony asked, kindly, from the driver's seat.

Sarah nodded, but frowned. So far Tony hadn't acted the way she'd expected him to. She watched warily as he fiddled with a rather expensive looking GPS system. She wasn't about to let him catch her off guard.

"Alright, it looks like the nearest town with a department store and decent food is about twenty minutes out. Well have you in dry clothes and fed in no time."

"Thank you." She smiled weakly. She wasn't just saying that to be polite – she really was grateful for all the trouble Tony had gone through for her sake, even if she wasn't so sure of the guy himself.

"You know," he started quietly, his tone oddly serious. Even in the short time she'd known him, she was startled to hear anything but that sugary-sweet cheerful tone from him. "McGee would have been here if he could."

Sarah nodded again, not having anything to say to that. His tone was just so dang sympathetic that she couldn't stand it.

They rode the rest of the twenty minutes in silence. Sarah noticed that DiNozzo was going the speed limit this time. She wondered if that was for her benefit or if the speeding he must have done earlier had been. Either way, she told herself, she didn't care.

When they pulled up to the small clothing store – the only one in town – Tony reached into his wallet and pulled out a credit card.

"You want me to go with you, or would you rather I looked for food?"

Again, Sarah was surprised by his courtesy. After the day she'd had, she would rather not be alone again. However, shopping with Tony would be very odd. She hadn't even ever taken Rex along when she shopped for clothes.

As if sensing her dilemma, Tony smiled and announced that _Martique's_ was having a sale on men's ties and that he needed one.

"So, if you don't mind, I'll go look at those while you find something dry to wear." He handed her the credit card and climbed out of the car, not giving her a chance to refuse.

** * ** * ** * **

Half an hour later, Tony sat with Sarah in a small, cozy diner waiting for their orders to be brought out.

Sarah was dressed in new, dry clothes that seemed to fit her fairly well. Tony couldn't help noticing, though, that the clothes were considerably more conservative than the ones he found her in.

Even though she had repeatedly thanked him, Sarah was putting out very strong 'leave me alone, I don't like you' signals.

He hadn't really expected her to be overly friendly – especially considering the little adventure she just had, but he didn't expect her to be like this, either. McGee's sister was borderline hostile.

And, maybe that was it – Sarah was McGee's sister.

Until recently, McGee had been very standoffish and resentful around Tony. After Gibbs' sojourn in Mexico, McGee and Ziva both had been slow to warm to Tony again.

Tony sighed – he couldn't say that McGee had liked him in the beginning, either. Tony knew that Sarah and McGeek fairly close – the younger McGee had no doubt heard a lot of bad things – er, mostly justified complaints – about Tony.

He couldn't blame her for being wary.

Still, it would have been nice to have the benefit of the doubt – especially since he was missing a Magnum rerun marathon for this.

Sarah pulled another napkin from the dispenser and began shredding it. She soon had a handful of long strips which she tore into small square pieces and dropped in the growing pile in front of her.

Tony rolled his shoulders, trying to work out some of the invisible tension that gripped him. He did his best to appear casual and confident – he didn't want to upset Sarah any more than he had. Straightening in his seat, he decided it was time for him and Sarah to have a little chat.

Damn, but he wished McGee was here instead of him. Or that Abby was. Or Gibbs. Or, hell, anyone but him.

"So."

Sarah looked up, but didn't respond. Clearly she didn't intend to make this easy for him.

"You got any particular destination in mind?" Tony was careful to keep his mental grimace off his face. This was his roundabout way of telling Sarah that McGee was 'not available'.

"My brother's apartment," Sarah responded promptly and predictably.

"Sarah," he began softly, "McGee isn't there."

"What?"

"He's on assignment from Vance – probably rubbing shoulders at some convention or another. He's been doing that a lot lately. Vance seems to think it's important to keep up PR for the team or something like that. Says McGee is the only one he trusts to do that."

Sarah shook her head.

"Tim always tells me when he leaves D.C." Her glare dared Tony to disagree.

"He may not have left the D.C. _area_," Tony responded diplomatically. The young woman across from him – while no longer sopping wet – still looked exhausted and emotionally distraught. Tony was doing his level best to be sensitive and considerate – lest he set her off. "Even so, he's not at his apartment. Most likely, if he's at a convention, he's staying in a hotel nearby, courtesy of NCIS, of course."

"You mean you don't _know_?"

Tony shook his head. McGee had stopped telling him these kinds of things the minute Gibbs had turned back up.

"I'm sure Gibbs knows. And Vance would probably tell you – maybe even be able to get in contact with him. He hasn't been answering his phone – either that, or he's ignoring both of us."

Sarah didn't respond, still staring at him suspiciously. Tony sighed. He tried to think of something else to say, but was saved by the waitress delivering their orders.

They ate in silence for a while – the food was good and they were both hungry.

"Sarah, it's gonna be late when we make it back – do you know anyone besides Tim that'll put you up for the night?"

Reluctantly, Sarah shook her head.

"I've got a spare room," he offered, "but, if you're not comfortable with that, I know someone else who would offer you a couch to sleep on – you remember Abby?"

Sarah nodded but her lips pinched uncomfortably. Tony raised his eyebrow. Surely she didn't not like Abby?

"I – you don't think I could get into Tim's apartment? I usually have a key, but…"

Tony shook his head.

Truth was, he _could_ get her into McGee apartment. Even if he didn't have a key, he was relatively sure he could pick the lock. He would have let her stay there, but his gut was advising him not to leave her alone.

He knew he wasn't the ideal person to support the dispirited young woman in front of him, but he had to be better than no one. At the very least, he could make sure she didn't do something stupid.

"Well, then, I really don't want to bother anyone else – "

Tony nodded, deciding not to argue with her.

"It's settled then – you'll stay with me tonight and tomorrow we'll hunt down your brother." Tony smiled reassuringly – or tried to.

Sarah shuffled in her seat uncomfortably and Tony bit back another sigh.

He really, really sucked at this.

** * ** * ** * **

Wordlessly, Sarah climbed into the passenger seat of the flashy Mustang.

Dinner had been strange.

Tony wasn't at all what her brother had described countless times. It wasn't like Tim to hold grudges or to say things that weren't true.

But DiNozzo –

She honestly didn't know what to think.

Sarah watched DiNozzo as he pulled out of the diner's small, pothole ridden parking lot and pointed the car towards D.C.

Tony turned the radio on and fussed with the tuner for a while before stopping at a classical station. Sarah frowned.

Classical music isn't exactly what she'd expected from Tony.

The driver seemed to sense her scrutiny. He smiled and shrugged shoulders before offering an explanation.

"McGee says you play classical piano – I thought this might relax you. You should get some rest."

Sarah eyed him incredulously. There was no way that the man Tim worked with and the man diving her to D.C. were the same person.

She didn't understand this. And she didn't like that.

"Why are you doing this?" She demanded. Sarah winced at her slightly confrontational tone.

Tony sighed and flexed his hands on the wheel.

"I know you've had a long day, so I'll get right down to it." Sarah raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. "You don't trust me because of something your brother said about me."

Well, that was an interesting non-answer.

"How astute."

Even in the dim light she could make out a dry smirk on Tony's face. Her biting sarcasm didn't seem to faze him much – a fact that disgusted her.

"Yes, well, astuteness is a requirement for the job."

"You haven't answered my question."

"Fine." His tone took her by surprise – he sounded _angry_. She gulped and leaned more against the door. "I know McGee and I aren't on particularly good terms – and we've never really been close, even though I thought we were beginning to –"

Tony cut himself off and Sarah couldn't help believing that the emotion in his voice was sincere. It wasn't just anger, but frustration and bitterness.

"Yes?" She prompted.

"Your brother is part of my team – a team of which I am the senior field agent. McGee is my responsibility – his personal interests, as well as his safety, are mine to protect and maintain. I picked you up because I knew he couldn't. If I had let anything happen to you, he would never have forgiven me. _I_ never would have forgiven me." Tony paused and, though his voice was remarkably well controlled, Sarah thought the words were hard for him. "We're a team and that's the way teams work. Whether or not McGee realizes it."

Sarah stared at the special agent in shock. This rather convincing display of loyalty did _not_ mesh with the picture Tim had painted for her.

Or did it?

Suddenly, she remembered something Tim had said in passing. Actually, several somethings Tim had stated rather casually.

Sacrifices made during a tight situation, agonies endured, or hurdles overcome.

Tim never talked much about the cases he worked, and even less about the danger he faced. Sarah knew he faced it – even if he didn't tell her about it in detail. She suspected that he was trying to protect her, trying not to give her a reason to worry about him incessantly.

"You saved his life, didn't you?" Sarah asked this question softly, even though she was sure she already knew the answer.

"And he mine. That's the way teams work."

Sarah nodded, able to accept his answer after the little epiphany she'd just had. Suddenly, she realized how lucky her brother – and, by extension, she herself – was.

Tim had a loyal friend watching out for him, even if he didn't realize it.

But, still. Sarah remembered how vehement Tim had been during some of his rants against Tony. A sliver of doubt crept in her mind.

What if DiNozzo was just playing her?

"But Tim has said – you super-glue him to his desk, steal his lunch, call him –"

Tony interrupted her with a laugh.

"And he doesn't take it anymore, does he?"

Sarah blinked, stunned. The agent was right. Tim still complained about DiNozzo, but he was more confident and much more proactive. Could Tony really be even partly responsible for this change?

As if sensing her thoughts, Tony chuckled.

"It is also my responsibility, as senior field agent, to assist the lead agent in ensuring that the junior agents are field trained. Capable and confident."

"From what I've heard, you've rather unorthodox methods."

"But effective – why else do you think Gibbs puts up with me?"

Sarah snorted, but in truth, that statement calmed her. She'd met Gibbs only a few times, but between those brief meetings and Tim's words on the subject Sarah had developed an enormous respect for the man, even though she hardly knew him.

Surely Agent Gibbs wouldn't keep some idiot on his team for eight years running. That meant that there was probably more to DiNozzo than met the eye – particularly Tim's.

Some kind of intuition told her that that was the way Tony wanted it. She wondered what had happened to make him so determined to hide behind childish antics all the time.

"So," she said, changing the subject, "you're going to help me find Tim tomorrow?"

"Scouts honor."

Sarah smiled and settled back in her seat, relaxing for the first time in Tony's presence.

** * ** * ** * **

Tony's breath whooshed out of his lungs in a relieved sigh as his passenger finally, _finally_ relaxed.

He felt like he'd just been on the wrong side of one of Gibbs' interrogations. Not that Sarah had been rough or verbally abusive – though he didn't doubt she could be tough if angered.

Tony's discomfort had been mostly of his own making – he'd forced himself to be completely honest with her.

He didn't want to upset her and he needed her to trust him. Besides, he felt he owed it to McGee's sister _because_ he owed it to McGee.

Honesty seemed the only policy, even as unsavory as he felt the truth really was.

After all, who could really _like_ Tony DiNozzo? That's why he created the act in the first place – at least he could control who liked or disliked him then, and _why_. That wasn't the point here.

The point was that, even though Sarah had relaxed, he still worried about her.

She hadn't said a single word about how she'd ended up on the side of the road.

Naturally, he hadn't prodded her, but, still. He had no doubt that if he _had_ brought the issue up, she would have actively avoided it.

Well, he supposed, glancing at his snoozing passenger, it could likely wait till the morning.

He'd turn her over to McGee and everything would be fine.

Tony did his part – someone else could step in and take care of the rest.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, what do you think? Once again plans for a simple one-shot back fired on me. Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Wow – your awesome reviews just blew me away. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

** * ** * ** * **

Tim woke groggily to the sound of a telephone ringing.

It took him a moment to register why he was hearing the old fashioned bell trilling instead of one of his customized ring tones – songs that helped him to identify the caller.

Right. Wake up call – he was at a hotel.

Sighing, Tim stretched under the sheets and reached for his phone on the nightstand, realizing that he'd kept it turned off for the majority of the day yesterday.

In fact, he'd forgotten to tell Sarah that he was leaving town – even if he was just an hour or so away in Boston.

He turned the phone on and left it to 'boot up' while he went about his morning routine.

Twenty minutes later he had dressed and showered and was ready to head down to breakfast. Absently, he flipped open his phone.

_37 missed calls_.

Tim's eyes widened.

Sarah called him seven times, Tony a more annoying thirteen-times, but Abby took the prize with a total of seventeen. All of the phone calls were placed around the same time – some of them mere minutes apart.

That suggested that all the calls were made for the same reason.

Suddenly, McGee started to panic.

Had something happened to Sarah?

Or Tony?

Or Abby?

Tim realized, with some surprise, that he was just as worried by any of the three possibilities.

But, no, he calmed himself. If something had happened to one of them, they wouldn't have been able to call. And Sarah's call meant whatever the problem was, it wasn't case related.

Unless, of course, it was Gibbs. Or Ziva.

Someone would have called Sarah when they couldn't reach him - but no. Sarah had made four calls before Tony and Abby began to try.

Taking deep, calming breaths like Ziva had taught him, Tim decided to call Tony first.

Despite the amount of grief Tony gave him every day, Tim knew he'd always pull through in a crisis. And if it was a crisis involving either Abby or Sarah, he'd want to talk to someone who had the situation under control.

The phone rang six times before going to voicemail. Tim promptly hit redial, realizing, belatedly, that he was calling Tony at 7:00 am on a Saturday.

"Merfuggh."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tony!"

"Easy, no need to shout McEarlybird. It's only – " There was a muffled curse from the older agent. "It's seven in the morning, McGee. Why are you calling _now_? Don't you have anything better to do than wake me up this morning?"

The other agent still sounded groggy, so McGee decided to let the surliness slide.

"Sorry, Tony, but – it's about Sarah…" McGee trailed off – what if Tony didn't know anything about Sarah's call? Maybe he was just overreacting.

Another muffled curse drifted over the line.

"Yeah, McGee. Right." Tony paused and McGee could here cloth rustling. "She's safe – called me yesterday around 1700 hours from the side of a road in Virginia countryside. I picked her up and brought her home."

"Why'd she call you?" McGee blurted, shocked.

"Honestly?" Tony chuckled dryly, "No idea. I think she just wanted me to get a hold of you for her."

Tim could almost hear Tony's shrug over the line. He felt a surge of gratefulness go out to Tony for again going beyond the mere call of duty. He hadn't needed to drive out personally to pick Sarah up – but McGee realized he wasn't all that surprised.

He'd given Tony a rough time while Gibbs was in Mexico – and an even tougher time when Gibbs got back. He'd been so full of resentment and frustration that he'd forgotten about Tony's more noble facets. Of course, it didn't help that Tony was very good at hiding them.

Of course Tony had picked Sarah up. Of course she was safely in his apartment –

Wait, his little sister was _what?_

Some of Tim's gratefulness morphed into plain over-protectiveness.

Tony was a decent guy – but not someone he'd let near his sister.

"Uh, thanks, Tony. I'll be there in a few hours to come get her."

"What about your convention thingy?"

"How'd you know about that?"

Again, McGee could hear Tony's shrug.

"Just a lucky guess."

"Well, Director Vance will understand. I'll check out here and be over as soon as I can."

"Alright, McGeek, I'll let Sarah know when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Tony."

McGee sighed and hastily hung up his phone and started packing.

** * ** * ** * **

Sarah didn't wake up until just after nine.

Vaguely, she recalled Tony dragging her out of his car and up way too many stairs before she was stuffed into a nice, warm bed. It took her a few minutes to really regain consciousness.

When she finally did it was to a growling stomach. After taking stock of her unfamiliar surroundings, she realized she could smell pancakes.

Tony was cooking breakfast?

Sure enough, after a trip to the bathroom, Sarah tiptoed into the kitchen to see DiNozzo wrapped in a dark green grilling apron, frying a batch of bacon. Two plates full of pancakes already set on the counter.

"Good morning, sleep well?" Her host didn't turn around, but seemed to know she was there anyway.

"Yes, thank you." She responded politely, eyeing the food. There was enough there to feed an army, and DiNozzo was still cooking. "You think we can eat all that?"

This time Tony turned his head to give her a grin.

"Nope, but we won't need to. McGee is already on his way and I'm expecting an unexpected visit from Abby and probably Gibbs, too. Maybe I should call Ziva just for the heck of it."

"You called Tim?"

Tony snorted.

"No, he called me – as soon as he heard you and I were in the same apartment he was checking out of his hotel. He should be here anytime."

Sarah noticed Tony's slightly self-deprecating tone, but decided not to comment.

"What makes you expect unexpected guests?" She asked instead.

Tony grinned again, while fishing the bacon out of the pan.

"I had to call Abby last night to get a trace on your cell phone – if I know her as well as I think I do, she'll be along to check on you sometime this morning."

"And bring Agent Gibbs with her?" That sounded like a rather odd relationship for co-workers.

Tony shrugged, but didn't elaborate. Well, Sarah wasn't going to pry – she considered it part of her unspoken 'thank you' to the NCIS agent for not asking her how she came to be stranded on the side of the road.

She really, really didn't want to talk about Rex yet.

Especially not to someone she barely knew and had just started trusting. Rex was – well, he was a rather embarrassing mistake. More than that, though, she felt a little bit heartbroken.

It didn't matter to her how often her parents and Tim told her Rex wasn't good enough for her, that he'd only hurt her – she'd cared about Rex.

Trusted him.

Then – this. He'd been lying the whole time.

No, she wasn't going to talk about Rex.

"Don't worry." Sarah jerked her head up to see Tony watching her quietly. "I'm not going to ask."

_How?_

"You're not exactly difficult to read." He said gently. "Besides, I already know about Rex."

"What? How?" She spluttered.

Tony smiled sheepishly.

"McGee wigged out in the break room one time – about some good for nothing low-life that was dating his sister. So I looked him up, just to make sure he _was_ over-reacting." Tony said it like it was the most natural thing in the world and not a complete invasion of at least three people's privacy.

She found she couldn't be angry with him – not really, not when he was right. Besides, it was so _nice_ that somebody _understood_ without her having to _tell_ them.

"You – you looked him up?"

Tony grinned, clearly relieved that she hadn't started yelling.

"Yeah, just a basic work up like I do for the rest of the team's love interests."

There was a beat of tense silence wherein Tony realized just what he'd said and Sarah started wondering if the man in front of her wasn't really some kind of creep.

"You check out your entire team's dates?" Sarah spoke slowly, willing the words to sound more reasonable than they did in her mind. She had just decided to start liking Tony.

"Um. Yes." Tony ran his hand through his hair, momentarily forgetting the spatula in his hand. He sighed and turned back to the eggs.

He was quiet for so long she didn't think he was going to say any more on the subject, but after flipping over the two eggs in the pan he turned to face her again.

"Few years back Director Sheppard hired an assistant for Abby, without a thorough enough back ground check. He – I… we had a history." Tony took a deep, steadying breath. "He tried to frame me for murder – and nearly succeeded, too. I was behind bars for two days before the team managed to clear me."

Sarah's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. That was awful.

"After that, well, I started checking everybody – just to be safe. I won't let anything like that happen again."

Sarah knew, somehow, that DiNozzo didn't mean he wouldn't let something like that happen to _him_ again. He was protecting his team.

She wondered what they'd done to deserve such loyalty. Tim couldn't possibly be aware of this – but then, he couldn't really be oblivious, either, could he?

"Why? Why do you work so hard to protect them?"

DiNozzo smiled sadly.

"I don't have anyone else, Sarah."

The heck he didn't!

"You do now, Mr. DiNozzo!" She surprised herself with the adamant exclamation.

She was even more surprised by the genuine smile that graced Tony's face.

She couldn't help returning it – it seemed as if she'd just acquired another brother.

Oh, boy.

Suddenly, she waxed serious again.

"Tony, about Rex…"

"I ran a background check – he's clean as a whistle, comes from a rich family, actually. Even so, there were charges levied against his father about ten years ago and several other mentions of scandal. He's either completely innocent or too smart to get caught."

"You did? And you didn't tell Tim?"

Tony smiled again.

"No – if McGee knew I could do that… well, things wouldn't turn out so well." He hesitated before sloughing on resolutely. "Sarah, he doesn't work for Madacorp – his uncle owns it. He lives off of inheritance."

She let that sink in – the nine to five job, business trips, work colleagues all _weren't._

"What? How could I not know?"

Sarah was utterly horrified. Surely she would have noticed something, anything! Rex, didn't, couldn't…

A firm hand guided her at seat at the kitchen table.

"It's all right – that bastard was smooth. He's probably been working the play for years. It's nothing illegal, but…"

Sarah suddenly rounded on Tony. Newly adopted brother or not, he'd let her be _with_ a known cheating bastard for _two months_.

"Why didn't you say anything?! How could you –"

Tony held up his hands in surrender.

"Now, wait a minute – McGee told you not to trust the guy. Sometimes you have to make your own mistakes."

Sarah frowned. She really had no response to that.

She just didn't know what to feel at the moment. She was angry and hurt and confused and terrified. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but didn't really know _why_ she was crying.

"Shh." Tony pulled her into a comforting, brotherly hug. Somehow he managed to make it not awkward even though he was standing and she was still sitting in the kitchen chair.

She didn't think too hard about that, though. Instead she buried her head into the proffered apron, not really listening to the soothing words Tony was spouting.

Sarah had no idea how long they stayed like that – just that it was long enough for Tony to burn his eggs.

It was comforting, being here in DiNozzo's kitchen, watching him cook breakfast. She felt safe, no matter what had happened yesterday or what she had just learned.

"I can't go back home, can I?" She knew she couldn't, but she wanted Tony to make this better, too. As soon as she said it, though, she felt weak and helpless and pathetic.

She shouldn't burden Tony with this – even if he seemed willing to bear it.

"No, that's probably not a good idea. You can stay here if you need to, but I'm sure McGee will take you in."

"So I can sleep on his sofa?" Sarah asked dryly. Tim had recently converted his spare bedroom into a writing studio. The change made her feel unwelcome, even though she had rarely visited her brother.

"Hmm." Tony carefully started frying another set of eggs. "I see your point – you really ought to talk him into getting a new place. Or, at the very least, a new couch."

That last bit had been said with the air of one who had _experience._

"You've slept on his couch?"

"Nah." Tony snorted. "Not likely, that. But I tried to watch a movie on it – the only thing more uncomfortable than the couch was the way McGee kept trying to throw me out every five minutes."

Sarah couldn't help it – she laughed. The mental picture was just too funny – especially when she imagined Tony's smug, confident I-know-better-than-you expression (one she was coming to be quite familiar with.)

Tony grinned at her as if he'd just won a medal.

"You're talking about that time _he_ was nearly charged with shooting a cop, aren't you?"

Tony nodded, turning back to the eggs.

"McGee was stationed outside, alone. He was ready for the assignment, but –" Her host was growing melancholy.

Sarah frowned. Everything had turned out okay – so why did it still bother Tony?

Then, suddenly, a light bulb flickered on – guilt.

She was steadily coming to realize that Tony considered Tim and the rest of his team to be a family that he needed to protect. His loyalty and protective bent wouldn't let him _not_ feel guilty for letting _anything_ threaten his family.

"It wasn't your fault." She said softly, not needing to know all the details of the incident to know that she was right. She was getting to know Tony well enough that she could count on some things to be true.

"Now you're channeling Abby. And Gibbs. How freaky. I wonder, you don't listen Hatchets, do you?"

Sarah laughed again, shaking her head to deny his almost-accusation.

"You already know that I listen to classical music, mostly."

"Ah, right. You have a favorite composer?" Tony asked, with what seemed to be genuine curiosity.

Sarah wrinkled her forehead before answering. Chopin was her favorite – but when had they started talking about music? It just seemed a little surreal to her.

Then –

"You changed the subject!" She accused, pointing her finger at Tony to emphasize her point.

"He does that, you just have to be persistent."

Sarah jumped.

"Hey, Gibbs," Tony greeted from the stove. "You're right on time, Boss."

Tony's first guest didn't have a chance to react to the sudden _expected_ unexpected visitor before she was encased in a hug.

Well, this was a familiar experience, at least. Otherwise, she might just have freaked out a little.

"Oh, Sarah, how are you? Are you okay? Was Tony a gentleman, like I told him to be? He didn't pester you with movie references, did he? Cuz I told him not to." While Sarah slowly digested Abby's rapid fire questions, the Goth used the time to glare reprovingly at Tony.

"Abby, why don't you and Sarah help yourselves to breakfast – you know where everything is."

Abby was more than happy to help Sarah around the kitchen while Tony finished cooking. Gibbs was already settled at the table with a plate full of pancakes and a cup of coffee.

After they'd loaded their plates, the slightly older woman dragged Sarah into the living room and plopped them both down on the couch – to watch the news, she said.

Sarah had a feeling, though, that the move had something to do with the way both Abby and Agent Gibbs had been eyeing Tony speculatively since they'd arrived.

She had only followed Abby because she was pretty sure she didn't want to be in the kitchen right now – even if she had no idea what was going on.

** * ** * ** * **

**A/N: **Oh, no, now everybody's involved. Well, except Ziva, that is. And I've locked Tony in a small room with Gibbs – I guess that was rather cruel of me. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Tony nearly sighed with relief when he heard Gibbs open the front door. It took him a minute to realize it was Abby with him because, apparently, she wasn't wearing her customary platform shoes.

Gibbs must be giving her 'sneak' lessons again. This time Tony did sigh – his life always turned very interesting when that happened.

Either way, he was very glad for both of the uninvited guests – especially when Sarah inexplicably caught on to his smooth changing of the subject.

She was either much smarter than McGee or she could read minds.

With the way their morning conversation had gone, he wasn't quite willing to rule the latter out. He hadn't done that much soul-baring since Gibbs had pulled him out of Boston Narcotics.

Abby must have sensed his unease because she took Sarah into the living room to 'watch the news'. Tony had nearly rolled his eyes when he heard that.

Abby stole the funnies from Gibbs news paper, mocked the weather girl on channel six, and kept up with online new blogs, but she _never_ watched the news.

"So, you wanna talk about it?"

Apparently Gibbs had sensed something, too.

Well, crap.

"No idea what you're talking about, Boss."

"You have that look, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, carrying his empty plate over to the sink.

"What look?" Tony asked, with his most fake-innocent expression firmly in place.

He didn't want to have this conversation now.

He didn't want to have this conversation ever.

What did it matter that he was tired of being constantly misjudged by the few people that he respected – that he cared about?

He really shouldn't let it bother him – after all, it really was his own fault. He did this to himself – always acting the juvenile prankster, the sexist jerk.

To be fair, sometimes he really _was_ juvenile and sexist; he was just more 'mature' and 'open-minded' than he allowed other people to notice.

He just – well, things had never made it back to normal after Gibbs came back to Mexico. His partners still resented him, his authority.

They had been – _almost_ – a family. Tim and Ziva had accepted him, Abby had valued his advice, and Gibbs had _trusted_ him. Now all he saw was the suspicious expressions, judging eyes, and scornful sneers. He wondered, again, why he didn't leave when he had the chance. He could have had his own team – in _Rota_.

Could've been his own boss (for the most part), called his own plays, started afresh.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs' sharp voice broke into his thoughts. "_Talk._"

Tony sighed – he knew why he stayed.

He still needed them. All of them – Gibbs, Abby, Ducky, Tim, Ziva, even Jimmy.

And now Sarah.

He couldn't deny being touched by her declaration of 'acceptance' earlier, but he doubted it would last long. McGee would poison her against him again, or else she would come to her senses on her own.

That thought hurt more than it should.

"What, Boss? What do you want me to say?"

Tony nearly winced at the defensiveness of his tone. Not good.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth –

Only to be interrupted by Sarah's _very_ timely arrival.

"Oh, hello. I'm not interrupting anything, I hope." Tony could've kissed her, she was all sugary-sweet and false smiles. She waved a half-empty glass of milk at Gibbs. "Just need a refill. Um, Tony, you don't have any chocolate syrup, do you?"

"For you, milady, I have anything your heart desires."

Tony slipped into his corny frat-boy persona gratefully. He just couldn't deal with all the judging and caring and 'fixing up'.

Sarah took the change in stride and proved to be an excellent partner-in-crime. Together they kept Abby and Gibbs occupied throughout the rest of breakfast which – even if there was half a pancake stuck to his kitchen ceiling – he considered to be a major accomplishment.

** * ** * ** * **

McGee limped wearily up the stairs of Tony's apartment building.

It was nearly noon.

Someone – Tim wasn't willing to name names – had found out about his 'early departure' and alerted Vance.

The director had, contrary to McGee's expectations, demanded that he stay for the rest of the planned events. Cranky at being ratted out, Tim had refused to give ground – much. He stayed for a computer forensics lecture which, while not nearly worth it subject-wise, was being attended by 'persons of interest' – or, rather, 'persons Director Vance wanted McGee to impress'.

The lecture had started ten minutes behind schedule and lasted an hour and a half.

Tim had been forced to do his best Gibbs Impression en route to make it to Tony's even this late.

Still, Sarah was very likely to be extremely pissed at him.

And, crap, but what if this had something to do with Rex?

Tim knocked resignedly on Tony's door, directly underneath the fancy gold numbers declaring it to be the twenty-seventh apartment on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator.

He was about to start knocking the door with his forehead when it swung open.

McGee stumbled forward, not waiting for an invitation – he _was not_ in the mood for Tony's ribbing.

"Uh, Timmy?"

Tim blinked. Tony sounded an awful lot like Abby.

"Glad you could join us, McGee." That was gruff and sarcastic and classically Gibbs.

Tim sighed and reluctantly pulled the loose pieces of his wit together. Abby was at his right, still holding the door open and giving him a look full of sympathy.

Gibbs, looking not quite so sympathetic – make that not at all – was lounging on Tony's couch.

Wonderful.

He shuffled forward into the surprisingly clean and well decorated living room.

"Where's Sarah?" And Tony. Where was Tony?

Panic must have started to show on his features because Abby clapped him on the shoulder bracingly.

"She's in the kitchen with Tony – I think they're making spaghetti."

"Chicken Marsala." Gibbs correct roughly.

"I don't think so, Gibbs."

McGee tuned out the unusual argument and headed for the kitchen.

This was most definitely going to get interesting.

And complicated.

Ugh, his brain hurt.

** * ** * ** * **

**A/N: **Sorry, guys. I'm wrestling with a horrible bout of writers' block – well, for my NCIS stories anyway. I'm barely restraining myself from posting a new Stargate Atlantis fic – but I won't. Not until I finish at least _one_ of these. Until I get over this terrible 'illness', though, here's a teaser for you. Thanks for reading and please review. Inspire me. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Tim entered the kitchen warily – no telling what gruesome sight would meet his eyes.

If Tony so much as –

"Timothy Wyatt McGee!"

His sister's strident tones abruptly broke him out of his – somewhat unfair – internal bashing of Tony.

"Wyatt? You're middle name is _Wyatt?_"

Tony was grinning like a fiend. Maybe he did deserve that bashing after all…

Still, Tim valiantly suppressed the urge to groan – that would only be giving the juvenile ape what he wanted.

Part of Tim _knew_ he was being harsh towards the other agent – but at that moment, nearly complete in his misery, he couldn't bring himself to care.

But he did need to do something about that – _name._

"My middle name is _not_ Wyatt." McGee glared at Sarah.

"Psych," she said, smirking at Tony.

The older agent chuckled and shook his head.

"Cute." McGee watched as DiNozzo spun back to the stove, his apron strings whipping out behind him – how Tim had only just now noticed the ugly green apron wrapped snugly around the man's middle, he will never know. "Hey, Sweetheart, stop giving your brother the stink-eye long enough to hand me the garlic, hmm?"

McGee's attention quickly went back to Sarah – her expression tightened at the 'sweetheart', but she answered gamely – probably just to annoy the 'big brother' in him – and slapped a clove of garlic into the waiting 'Chef's' hand.

"There you go Chief – just don't add too much."

Tony rolled his eyes and responded in smooth, sarcastic Italian. McGee frowned.

He needed to break this party up before Tony did something stupid – like try to _seduce_ his little sister. McGee would kill him.

Taking a deep breath, Tim turned to address his sibling.

She looked more than a little tired, but seemed unhurt – though it was kinda hard to tell just _what_ was really under such a liberal dusting of flour.

McGee sighed – _he_ was really exhausted if he was just realizing that Tony's entire kitchen was coated with a 'liberal dusting of flour' – with the strange exception of DiNozzo himself.

Odd.

"Um, Sarah?" McGee's tone was tentative – uncertain. He was sending a feeler out – just how mad was Sarah?

He could _not_ deal with cold-shoulder or even the silent-treatment right now.

_Please, please, please…_

"Yes, Timothy?"

Mildly irritated – _yes!_

Although, a mildly irritated Sarah was very nearly as bad as a mildly irritated Tony DiNozzo – not that he would ever tell _her_ that.

But, still – mildly irritated meant his kid sister would still be responsive to him _and_ relatively reasonable.

"I'm sorry I missed your calls last night and couldn't come get you and I'm really, really sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving D.C. and –"

"Woah, there, Tiger." Tony slapped his partner in the chest with a dusty towel. The resulting cloud of flour caused McGee to go into an awkward coughing fit. Tony pretended not to notice.

Bastard.

"Slow down. I'm sure Sarah isn't upset –" Tony smirked cruelly, "much."

Tim was about to retort angrily when Sarah cut him off with at contemplative hum.

"Hmmm." Sarah echoed Tony's disturbing smile. "He's right, you know. I'm not upset – much. You _could_ make it up to me, though."

Well, there's the Sarah he knew and loved – she couldn't be _that_ poorly off if she was already trying to play him.

Too tired to fight it – and smart enough to realize that a fight was futile anyway – McGee decided to give in gracefully.

"What do you want?"

Well, he decided to _give in._

"Take me shopping. Tonight."

"_Tonight?"_

God. Not tonight.

"Now, Sarah, don't torture the poor guy." Tim blinked at Tony. What an unusual thing for him to say. "I'll take you shopping."

And all becomes clear.

Tim scowled. He was thankful that Tony hadn't left Sarah to rot on the side of a road, but he wasn't about to be comfortable with that arrangement.

Sarah didn't seem to share his discomfort though.

She squealed in delight and – to McGee's _very great_ disconcertion – launched herself at Tony.

"Now, I'm not sure that's such a –" Tim immediately went to work peeling his sister off of Tony.

"Good idea?" Oh, god. Not Abby. Abby would probably think that 'Tony and Sarah' made an 'adorable' couple. "It's definitely not a good idea. Not at all. It is a terrible idea."

McGee could have cried in relief.

"You're invited, too, Abbs."

"Oh, in that case it's a _great_ idea."

Tim paled.

This was just not his day.

** * ** * ** * **

Sarah wanted to box her brother.

Really, she just wanted to smack him upside the head – really, really hard.

Like a Gibbs-slap.

He deserved it.

But Sarah knew that Tony wouldn't appreciate it. He was even trying to cut her brother some slack – she could tell.

Heck, he had offered to take her shopping – and she knew he didn't just mean company and transportation. She knew he would pay again – heck, she still had his credit card!

That was it – the _minute_ Sarah got her brother alone she was going to let him have it.

Tim was really a sweet guy – but sometimes he was just such an utter moron.

** * ** * ** * **

Tony sighed in relief when Abby flounced into the kitchen, effectively rescuing him from Tim.

Tony had avoided a one-on-one discussion with the Goth, but he knew she was contrite about her rather groundless and undeserved accusations from earlier.

Wishing away a budding headache, Tony tried to focus on his cooking – Chicken Marinara.

It was no one's favorite, really, but Tony liked it. Abby would eat it and Tony had never known Gibbs to _not_ eat something if he was hungry.

Sarah claimed to have never had it and Tony honestly did not know how McGee felt about it.

But, then, Tony should probably be more concerned with how McGee felt about his sweet little sister staying with the lecherous Very Special Agent DiNozzo.

Tony sighed – he could tell that McGee was worn out. Too many favors for Toothpick, lately.

And he really couldn't blame the computer geek for being protective of his only sister.

Hell – if she were _Tony's_ sister, he'd be protective of her himself.

Still, Tony knew that this meant he was going to have to have a 'talk' with McGee.

Tony hated 'talking'.

It was something he _never_ did – not until he met Gibbs.

Adding a bit more seasoning to the bubbling sauce, Tony grimaced ruefully at the memory.

Gibbs had practically beat the first few 'talks' out of Tony. One of his ribs twinged in sympathetic memory. It hadn't been broken – just bruised a bit.

And it _had_ been for his own good.

Besides – a few years and a lot of maturing later, and Tony had been able to return the favor.

Tony remembered the first time Gibbs had tried to get him to talk about his 'feelings' – this was just after they had solved their first really gruesome case. Some nut-job had strung up two nine year olds and their Navy step-father in an attic and left them to rot.

Tony had been so angry – memories of his own childhood had assaulted him. He felt guilty and weak for having such a hard time dealing with his own past when he had been so much luckier than Cindy and Bryce.

He had wanted to so badly to trade – to give them his life and take their deaths.

But he had thought he hid it well.

After all, he'd been hiding stuff like that for a long time.

Gibbs, though – while he may not have know _what_ Tony was hiding – he knew_ something_ was there, frothing beneath the surface.

So the older agent had dragged Tony down to the gym and questioned him through an intense sparring session.

It had felt so damn good to be able to hit back.

Eventually, Tony had stopped needing to. Now they had most of their 'talks' – still blessedly few – in Gibbs' basement, with only a smattering of bourbon to ease them through it.

The problem was, Tony didn't know how to 'talk' to McGee.

He would _never_ hit him – not like that, not to vent. Gibbs was the only one he trusted to see him like that.

And maybe that was it.

That was why it was _so_ hard – Tony still didn't 'trust' McGee.

And McGee probably picked up on that.

Tony stirred the sauce sluggishly, subconsciously tuning out Sarah and Abby's excited chatter and McGee's groans.

Really, McGee had earned Tony's trust a hundred times over. Tony just hadn't given it to him.

There was no excuse.

Sure Tim had antagonized him and pushed him away when Gibbs ran off to Mexico – but he might not have if Tony had _given_ just a bit more of himself – to both McGee and Ziva.

DiNozzo sighed.

He hated this kind of personally revelations.

A grunt to his right caused him to look up – Gibbs.

Of course.

"You OK?"

Tony smirked. Sure – he was fine.

He felt like an ass, but he was just fine.

"Just thinking about 'trust', Boss."

Gibbs wouldn't understand, not yet, but he _would_ understand Tony's tone, his conviction.

As expected, his boss snorted approvingly and slapped him on the shoulder.

Tony grinned.

Gibbs had trusted _him_ – how hard could it be for him to show little Timmy just a little trust?

** * ** * ** * **

**A/N:** Okay guys – here's the other half of that previous chapter. Coming next (and hopefully 'soon') will be a delightful convo between our boys. Maybe I'll even take Sarah and Tony and Abby shopping.

Thanks for reading, thanks for your patience, and thanks for your really great and inspiring reviews.

So please leave more… ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Tony stared sadly at the cheerily boiling red sauce that he was about to pour over freshly baked and very expertly seasoned chicken. If he left the sauce on the burner much longer it would develop an unpleasantly bitter twang.

But his 'emotional nerves' still stung from all the earlier 'drama' and 'self-revelations' he'd experienced in the last thirty-six hours. He was about to start counting them when his conscience delivered a sharp, necessary Gibbs' Slap.

He was stalling, the sauce was undoubtedly become less and less appetizing, and…

And what?

Oh, yeah.

And there were four hungry guests waiting impatiently in his sitting room.

Abby had been chatting with – or at– McGee since she had managed to drag him from the kitchen.

Sarah had been banished shortly afterwards on account of her dropping the onion powder – Tony had declared that she was bad luck in the kitchen and if she kept dropping things he'd have to make a trip to the supermarket just to finish dinner.

Of course Sarah had pouted – dropping two things, one of which didn't even spill – didn't really merit exile, but she had complied willingly enough. Either Sarah still felt bad about her explosive episode with the last of DiNozzo's flour, or she understood that Tony _needed_ to think _alone._

He wouldn't put it past her.

Reluctantly, Tony pulled the chicken out of the oven, substituting the dish with one full of ready-mixed brownie batter.

Again, once he returned to the stove, Tony stared at the sauce.

Dinner was likely to be tense and stressful.

McGee was very protective of Sarah – Tony couldn't even pretend that the geek wouldn't be out for Tony's blood, or, at the very least, a somewhat lengthy and sincere 'talk' on Tony's part.

Tony shuddered – he'd had a 'talk' with Tim before.

It hadn't gone well.

He'd been forced to call for the cavalry – namely Gibbs and Abby – to extricate himself from a rather sticky mess.

He couldn't bring himself to believe that the inevitable 'chat' tonight would turn out any different.

But he had to try.

He owed it to McGee – and Sarah.

Sarah – the young woman he had rescued from some random Virginian highway yesterday evening.

She was also the young woman who had accepted his offered guest room – for an unspecified amount of time.

Sighing heavily, Tony dumped – instead of using the recommended 'pouring' technique – the by-now-bitter red sauce on the slightly cooled chicken.

McGee was going to have a conniption.

Gibbs fidgeted.

It was just a slight movement of his right arm, but somehow Abby noticed - and shot him a _look._

The young Goth couldn't read him as well as Tony did, but they understood each other well enough.

Abby shook her head slowly – '_give him more time.'_

Gibbs sighed inaudibly and fidgeted again.

The timer had gone off ten minutes ago – and still, there was no peep from the kitchen. Gibbs was certain that _something_ had happened that he didn't know about. He had tried to interr- uh, _question_ McGee's sister, but Abby had very effectively cut him off at the front.

His forensic scientist was currently engaged in a lively conversation with the two McGee's – Abby usually wasn't one to ignore the pink elephant in the room, nor to encourage others to, but tonight she was doing so with real skill.

Probably a skill she had picked up at a very young age – covering for her deaf parents.

Gibbs shook his head – that was not a direction he wanted his thoughts to take.

Still, he should probably follow Abby's lead – and let Tony deal with it.

He just couldn't help it. Tony was acting trapped. He probably _felt_ trapped.

And Tony usually did something stupid when cornered.

On the other hand, dinner would probably be interesting.

A collective sigh went up – although it contained various tones – when Tony called his guests to dinner.

Tony stifled his own sigh and consciously refrained from fidgeting under the group's collective stare. He was just barely holding together.

Gibbs was eyeing the slightly dry chicken with trepidation – the older man knew him very well. Tony had no doubt that the dry chicken told Gibbs more about his emotional state than Tony, himself, could understand.

Normally, that would give him some relief.

And by 'normally', he meant 'pre-sojurn-to-Mexico'.

It's not that his faith in Gibbs had been shaken – just, he sometimes felt Gibbs deliberately distancing himself from the family-type relationship with … anyone, everyone.

He didn't know if he could count on Gibbs' help tonight.

And – as great a friend as she was – Abby would never understand that Tony desperately needed help on this one.

Tony stood, frozen, with the main course suspended over the table.

He couldn't do this – couldn't, couldn't, couldn't.

He could've been in Rota right now – why hadn't he taken that job?

Whenever he was confronted with some sort of relationship trouble – or, well, any kind of trouble involving deep emotion – Tony's knee jerk reaction was to run.

This time he couldn't run.

He. Was. Trapped.

Then – he snapped back to reality.

Someone was clearing their throat – loudly.

Tony glanced around the table – and there she was. His knight in shining armor gave him an encouraging smile. Tony's breath wooshed out of his lungs as he plunked the food down on the table with little grace.

He wasn't really trapped, because he wasn't really alone.

Sarah may not _understand_ like Gibbs did, nor could she compete with Abby's determined loyalty, but she did understand some, and she did care some.

And she was grateful.

To him, Tony, for doing his job.

For protecting and training her brother.

As he eased into his seat, Tony's eyes slid over to meet McGee's.

McGee was his junior agent – no longer "Probie" – and Tony had developed a certain respect for the younger man.

And, yet, he hadn't trusted him. After all they had been through together, Tony had not trusted McGee. That was a slight that Tony was determined not to repeat.

Not ever again, starting tonight.

Sarah watched as Tony clumped moodily out of the kitchen, carrying dinner in two large serving dishes. He looked like he was going to somebody's funeral – namely, his own.

She sympathized, she really did, but he was being a little ridiculous, she felt.

Was this not the same Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo that tormented her brother on a daily basis?

Why was Tony so… anxious?

He had done Tim a favor, after all! He shouldn't be walking around with this 'hang dog' look.

He almost seemed like he was guilty of some cardinal sin – or _thought_ he was.

Ridiculous.

Sarah cleared her throat quietly when she decided that Tony had been standing, holding dinner like a ransom, for just an instant too long.

No response.

Sarah tried again.

Whatever had gotten hold of Tony was Bad News.

Sarah tried _again_ – this time mimicking a cat with a hair-ball three times bigger than its throat. Finally, the agent's head swiveled in her direction. Despite her feelings on the matter, Sarah just couldn't bring herself to be truly peeved at DiNozzo – especially when his kicked puppy expression was aimed at her.

The younger McGee tried to smile hearteningly.

Maybe he was distraught by monsters he'd actively created himself, but he really _was_ distraught. She felt she owed him support.

Apparently, a little support was all Tony needed. He stood for a minute more, looking lost, before finally coming to.

Within the space of a few seconds, Tony's tension largely drained away. Sure, there was some residual stress – mainly some tautness that lingered about his eyes and mouth – but Tony no longer looked like he was headed for the executioner's block.

Sarah hadn't realized that _she_ had caught some of Tony's anxiousness until she felt her own muscle relax in response to Tony's new posture.

Without conscious thought, Sarah caught Tony's eye.

She lifted her eyebrow.

_What now, you silly goose?_

Tony gave a faint, mirthless smile and his left hand twitched in McGee's direction.

Sarah sighed – that didn't answer her question at all. She shook her head in confusion.

If she had been paying attention to anthing but Tony, Sarah might have noticed that Abby and Gibbs were both watching Tony with an intensity and understanding that matched – if not surpassed – her own.

Tony suddenly grinned and, this time, looked at McGee directly.

Sarah took that to mean '_just play along, newbie'._

Well, she had a feeling that although dinner wasn't about to get suddenly less awkward, it would at least be entertaining.

**A/N:** Very sorry about the long wait. And the short chapter. And the sudden and abrupt ending here…

*cough* So, what on earth could Tony have up his sleeve? Thanks for (still) reading – and please (even though I don't deserve it) shoot me a review or three.


	6. Chapter 6

The food, somehow, was not quite what McGee expected. It was, more or less, average – which really didn't 'fit' with his image of Tony. Tony DiNozzo, whatever he was, was _not_ average, typical, 'inside the bell curve', or, god forbid, "normal".

Tim wasn't really sure _what_ he had expected – exceptionally good food, or exceptionally bad, or even exceptionally eccentric – but it certainly wasn't what he got.

Average. Typical.

The sauce was slightly off, but edible. The chicken was thoroughly cooked, unburnt, but a little dry. The salad was… well, it was salad.

Gibbs ate with gusto.

The atmosphere, on the other hand, was exactly what he had expected.

What made him expect a tense DiNozzo, strained conversation, and angry Sarah-glares, he wasn't quite sure. It certainly wasn't the norm. Even Abby was having a hard time keeping the conversation afloat.

So, all in all, things were slightly unpleasant all the way around, but definitely tolerable.

Until Tony spoke for the first time since taking his seat.

Tim's heart was beating just fine – a normal, efficient rhythm.

And then Tony opened his mouth.

"Sarah, my love, move in with me."

Tim choked on a particularly tough bit of meat.

**O OO O OO O OO O OO O**

Tony hid his grin at McGee's reaction, putting more effort into 'hamming it up'. He planned a huge production.

"I can't bear to live without you – I know we've only just met, but my heart _longs_ for you!" Half of Tony's young, shut-in childhood had been spent watching a series of soap operas with the kitchen staff. He was giving any good soap star a run for his money here. "If you were to reject me – I _would die!_ My heart would wither up and my soul would blow away…"

Tony trailed off, glancing around the room surreptitiously. McGee was still working on his throat-blockage. Gibbs stared at him stonily, but Tony knew he was laughing on the inside. Abby, poor Abby, had her face buried in one of Tony's oversized maroon cloth napkins.

Sarah McGee, however, was staring at him with awe. He sensed some kind of sick appreciation emanating from her. Before his very eyes, her posture straightened and she leaned forward dramatically.

Again, Tony hid a smirk. He _knew_ Sarah would go along with this. After all, wasn't Jimmy always telling him that it was a sister's _job_ to annoy, hassle, and otherwise upset their older sibling's life?

"Oh, Tony!" Her eyes actually teared up as she gazed at him joyfully, longingly. "Oh, Tony, my heart. Yes! Yes, I will move in with you. We will never again be separated – never!"

English major or not, Sarah had, very obviously, watched some of the same soap operas as Tony. Knowing, both of them, what should happen next in their impromptu plot, they stood and lunged for each other passionately – Gibbs had the presence of mind to duck, as they went around his side of the table. Their faces transformed with rapture.

McGee still looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a bludger. Or as if he'd been stunned with a phase pistol.

Maybe both.

But Tony wasted no time staring. He grabbed Sarah up – in a very romantic manner – and whisked her away to his bedroom.

**O OO O OO O OO O OO O**

Tim was standing by the time the …. Pair of them made it to the bedroom, but he froze when the door slammed shut.

_What the hell_?

"What just happened?"

"Um," Abby began hesitantly.

"They hooked up, McGee. Deal with it."

Tim's head swiveled towards his boss. Surely… Surely Gibbs wasn't _okay_ with that – that awful, _awful_ thing they had just witnessed. But he appeared outwardly calm. Granted, it was rare when Gibbs didn't appear outwardly calm – unless he was angry. Tim never thought he'd wish to see Gibbs angry.

The bedroom, which, until then, had remained unnervingly quiet, suddenly became very loud. Steamy, passion-filled sounds drifted through the closed (and locked?) wooden door.

Tim was sure he turned green.

However much he disapproved, he was _not_ going in there.

**O OO O OO O OO O OO O**

Abby was dying. Gibbs was always saying DiNozzo would be the death of them. He was right.

Belatedly, she remembered Ziva's coaching – stay in control. Breathe in slowly, hold the breath. This is control. Let it out slowly. Control.

Somewhat settled, Abby focused on the 'sounds' coming from the bedroom. She couldn't contain her grin when she recognized the movie Tony had popped in. It had been quick thinking on his part – not a whole lot of movies had a steamy sex-scene without loud, dizzying background music. Beneath that, though, she _thought_ she detected some gasping and wheezing that she knew _wasn't_ part of the film.

Huh.

She glanced at Tim – and suddenly she was dying again.

Until the boss-man grunted. It was as if a spell had been lifted. She was able to restrain her giggles with ease.

This time, she was actually able to _look_ at Tim.

He didn't look so good. Comical, yes, but good? No.

He was much paler than normal. Gibbs had moved over to his side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tim didn't seem to be aware. He blinked slowly, staring in horror at Tony's bedroom door.

"You say they hooked up?" He croaked, rather lifelessly. "Tony and… and…"  
"Your sister, McGee."

"Right."

"You know…" Abby interjected as thoughtfully as she knew how. "This really seems kind of out of the ordinary for Tony. Don't you think, Gibbs?"

"With the girl?"

"No, no. I mean, with Tim here."

"Well, yeah. Usually he notices when McGee goes white-as-a-sheet. But I 'spose there's always exceptions."

"Really?" Abby sounded skeptical. "When was the last time _you_ had to fix Tim during a case? Tony usually handles it, doesn't he?"

_Until Mexico. _Abby thought. But maybe Tim was in too much of a haze to register that.

**O OO O OO O OO O OO O**

McGee was in a haze. It was red and fuzzy and warm. Kind of nice, actually. But suddenly, something penetrated his pleasant haze.

Abby.

And Gibbs.

Talking about Tony.

Suddenly his haze was gone. Tim remembered things pre-Mexico. Tony had been annoying, overbearing, and an ass in general, but Tim had come to realize that most of that was just a smoke screen. In recent years, he had come to count on Tony being there when he needed him. Those times almost always coincided with the times that Tim did _not_ want to see Tony. The older agent had always dealt with that skillfully, however.

Why was Abby bringing that up now?

Maybe because Tony had never done anything to betray him. Certainly, he had _felt_ that way after the whole Benoit incident. But that wasn't betrayal – Tony had been trying to do his job. He'd gotten in over his head, but no-one had been there to bail him out until the very end. Maybe they could have done something sooner, maybe not. But Tim _had_ forgiven Tony for keeping that secret from them… he'd just never said so.

And he hadn't changed how he acted around Tony.

That was his mistake.

But he should know that Tony wouldn't hurt a member of his own team. Tim had watched many times, how protective Tony could get over Abby, Ziva, Ducky, and even Jimmy. He supposed he should add himself and Gibbs to that list.

Straightening his shoulders and decidedly _not_ thinking his next action through, Tim marched straight to the Bedroom Door.

And yanked it open.

It opened easily, revealing his sister and Tony – not locked in a passionate embrace – sitting cross legged on the bed arguing over… something.

Was that a chessboard?

A large flatscreen plasma hung opposite Tony's bed, playing a very risqué scene over and over again.

Right. Well.

He hadn't really been worried. Just surprised.

"Very funny you two." He said it dryly, going for some of Gibbs' classic sarcasm.

Tony looked up from the game board and grinned brightly, looking rather smug.

"C'mon, Sarah. Our food is probably cold by now-" Here he glared a bit a McGee. It _had_ taken him a while to get with the program. "but there are brownies in the oven."

Tony brushed past him, leaving him and Sarah alone.

"Sarah –"

"Don't even start, Tim! Tony has been nothing but a gentleman, the entire time. Even before you got here. You realize I spent the night with him, right?"

Tim blanched a bit at that last statement, but – nah. He'd just received the shock of his life, Sarah was going to have to work harder than that to put him on the backfoot.

"I'm sure he was. I'll be sure to thank him. And-"

"You should also thank him for putting up with me for the next week or so."

"Wha-"

"I'm staying here. Your place is nice, but I hate your couch. Tony has a nice bed."

Okay, fine. She'd proven she _could_ still surprise him. But she was just kidding, right?

"C'mon, Sarah, be serious. I did say I was sorry I couldn't come get you. Very, very, sorry."

"I know Tim," she interjected, cutting him off once more. "And I forgive you. But I'm still staying here. It's the couch, you see."

McGee spluttered a bit.

"What are you afraid is going to happen?"

Now that was a rather loaded question.

He couldn't be afraid of what he _thought_ had just happened. It, very clearly, was a joke between both of them. Like big brother and little sister ganging up on the middle child. Oh, lord.

But he couldn't be afraid of _nothing_ either, because he couldn't ever be afraid of nothing with Tony. Or with Sarah. They were just too imaginative for anyone's good.

"Ahh – I'm just afraid for my own life."

"Should be, McGee," Gibbs called from the dining space.

Tim sighed. Of course.

"Cake!" Abby shouted. Tim and Sarah make their way back to the others, post haste.

"They're brownies, Abby." Tony's eyes lit up as McGee retook his seat. "So, I gotcha pretty good, eh, McGee. Oh, that was a _classic._ I can't believe you fell for it!"

Tim sighed. Lovely, just what he needed. He had been wrong. He'll freely admit it, but does he really need to listen to Tony crow about it for the rest of the day?

"Yeah, Tony, that was pretty good," Abby agreed. She smiled mischeviously. "Wonder what Ziva will have to say when I tell her what she missed."

Tim had the satisfaction of seeing Tony pale at her words.

All of them were still a little scared of Ziva. Probably always would be, but there was one in every family. Right?

**O OO O OO O OO O OO O**

**A.N:** So, very, very sorry about the long wait, guys. But hopefully this chapter was worth it. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me on this story! Thanks for reading, and please review. I'd love to know what you think.


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